


A Mightyena Tale (Pokémon Bookcraft)

by DonnaBaines



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Fanfic, Funny, Gen, Humor, Pokemon - Freeform, Tale, mightyena - Freeform, pokefic, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 13:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonnaBaines/pseuds/DonnaBaines
Summary: A tale found in the annals of te timeworn Bhreatain castle, written by the greatest writer that ever was.





	A Mightyena Tale (Pokémon Bookcraft)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My sweet prince (eva_s)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eva_s/gifts).



In the first day of March, the year of which I have no desire to call to mind, there were born not long since eleven and one poochyenas near an alehouse in Bhreatain Bheag. A part of their fortune consisted of a piece of dirty cloth as a shelter, a wooden pot with lentils, flesh and bits of bread on it, a couple of stolen saddlebags, three or four oak firewood, gorgeous gems in a loafer and some hunted deerling on Sundays. The age of their mother was bordering on nine; she was lean, gaunt-featured and a great hunter. She used to be an inveterate wanderer; consequently she began roaming for the purpose of giving her cubs a nice abode under that timeworn castle- - just as the proverb declares "a nice tree is a nice shelter". This, however, is of but little importance to our tale; it will be enough to not to elude from the truth in the telling of it.    

A bunch of misfortune came together with them as they were born to display their drowsiness and low-spirit; except for one (the last of the recent herd), who was born to be lucky. You must know, then, that the above-named puppie was a true troublemaker, and, whenever he was at leisure (which was the mostly hours of the day) he gave himself up to carry out his mischief and devilries with such joviality and ardour that calming him down was near the impossible; and to such a pitch did his eagerness and infatuation go that on the second day since his birth he had already learned to walk alike he were a coquettish gentleman, displaying on his charm and anget.

A mound of amusing days he had passed in that whale alehouse belonged to an eld craftsman; so, without giving notice of his intention to anyone, and without anybody seeing him, he rode up to the inn carrying out steep and overblown pirouettes until he remained tired and wearisome. All these and other monads he had done to call-over the attention of the clients, who in a few days had taken him a great affection.

On the fourth day he was thus a yokel, he kept hanging around the winery, smelling each one of the many schnapps and spirits of the place. There he had many arguments with some pokémon about which was the headiest and valiant trainer: Baltarabadán from Sinnoh or Maltadicomiconiqués from Kanto; but the greybeard Gogoat of the town said nobody had fought with such artistry as Espartafilardo from Johto, because he was not as maudlin and quibbler as they were, and his valour was aye highly acclaimed.    

With this and other mischief the poor puppy lost his wits; so he used to go to the alehouse in the night time where two women were standing at the door holding some torches. He entered the inn expecting for some dwarf to play the trumpet announcing his arrival, but, seeing that nobody was there, and seeing that he has in a hurry to reach the stable and have something to eat, he made from the inn door where another two damsels were waiting for him to come. At this moment it so happened that a swineherd who was going through the stables gave a blast of his horn to bring his pigeons together, and forthwith it seemed to the puppy to be that he was expecting, the signal of some dwarf announcing his arrival; and with such prodigious satisfaction he rode up to the inn and to the ladies, who, seeing a puppy of this sort approaching with such tenderness, they ran and with a gentle voice they addressed him. And with this, he then began climbing the narrow varnished mahogany counter to perform his tricks. He had a great relish with “Seven Drunken Nights”, its jubilance and hubbub procured him with the best dance steps, which illustrated them with ireful capers, although he was better off with “The Lark in the Morning”, which he danced doing awkward and frantic pirouettes along the board. When the puppy saw such a crowd celebrating his cuties, he then began to say with lot of finesse…

“ _Never!, o!, such a puppy was,_

_By hand of drunkards so acclaimed,_

_As high-spirited Poochyena,_

_When from Bhreatain castle he came,_

_Maidens pet his hide,_

_O! So softly they scratch his tail-_ ”

The maidens, who were not able to understand his barks, did not reply anything. Then, the poochyena continued…

“ _No account I make of dances,_

_Or of strains that pleased thee so,_

_Keeping thee awake from midnight_

_Till the crocks began to crow_ ”

He had too much fun barking at the ponytas and rapidashes from the inn, it was one of his favorite devilries; he then rushed to strike with nibbles in their hocks and to tear off the hairs from their tails, and to raise a paw clinging to their hooves, so with this they turned angered to reproach him, to which the poochyena fled in terror, for after a few seconds return with the same anger and energy to annoy them again. The innkeeper came to think that all the verve and liveliness that his faint-hearted brothers did not possess came to him. There were opportunities in which it was necessary to provide somnolent powder to soothe his nerves; the priest of the people also begged about him to depart soon since the devil can incarnate in many ways.

I am able to remember that, being one of the many cubs from the herd roaming near a grinder, and as our puppy noticed his fur was mainly gray-coloured and that his brother-cub had a deep-black stain in his leather, he shuned off from him with anguish to his mother, and scoring with a paw he shouted: “Mom, bugaboo!”

He replied laughing: “Thou-goat!”

Their fortune wanted that scene to be seen by the innkeeper, who wooed them with some hay, seeds, firewood, clothes, wraps, raisins and some other crafts; together with furtermore stuff they were wanted of.


End file.
